


Heckyeah Harrisco Fills

by aquaexplicit



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Harriscofest Fills, M/M, New Years Kiss Anthology Fills, Tags/Warnings in Each Chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 00:50:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16923480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquaexplicit/pseuds/aquaexplicit
Summary: all the heckyeahharrisco fills that don't have homes.





	1. smoking weed + sensory sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stars-n-spacee asked: Today and episode of: Thoughts I have when I should be asleep! Harry is absolutely clumsy when he’s high. Cisco totally adores this and can’t stop giggling when Harry fumbles with the buttons on Cisco’s jeans.
> 
> combined with harriscofest prompt "smoking weed together, passionate sensory sex ensues"

“I need it to be.” Cisco watches Harry’s eyebrows dip as he stares at the AC controls in Cisco’s apartment. “Less cold.”

Harry has been standing in front of the AC for however long it’s taken for Cisco’s tongue to swell in his mouth. He tries to remember where he left his Gatorade. And the pipe.

Then there are fingers in front of his face. A palm sliding to his cheek. When he blinks, it’s into Harry’s hooded eyes, stern even clouded with smoke. “I need it to be less cold.”

“What happened to your cardigan, dude?” Cisco has to squint at the unit. Think. To make it less cold, he needs to press. Up? Down? To make anything less, he needs to go down -

“Less cold,” Harry hisses at his side. He swipes his hand to knock Cisco’s out of the way - that’s what Cisco thinks his goal is, anyway. Harry disconnects from his body when he’s head high and tired, though, and Cisco watches as Harry's brain spins faster than his body can move. He'll stumble, knocks his knuckles around, trip over the floor. It’s the funniest fucking thing Cisco’s ever seen.

Case in point.

Harry misses Cisco’s hand completely. He manages to smack the jut of his wrist bone into the wall. As he snatches it back, pride wounded deeper than skin, he manages to rattle his own jaw. Cisco laughs so hard he has to grip his own knees not to tumble back onto the floor.

“Hate you,” Harry mutters. Cisco isn’t sure if he’s talking to himself or to Cisco, but it’s heavy all the same.

“You’re so clumsy. It’s like you forget how to be a person.” Cisco wipes blurry heat at his eyes. “It’s literally my favorite thing.”

The air conditioner whirs softer. Harry must’ve cracked the code. He turns to Cisco, mouth lazy and triumphant, and he manages to curl his hands around Cisco’s biceps before almost stepping on his own toes. Cisco laughs as Harry’s fingers slip under his t-shirt sleeves. Harry’s touch almost always falls its way under his clothes; generally gentle, just breathing him in through skin, almost platonic.

Cisco dips his forehead against Harry’s jaw. “Think you can make it back to the couch, buddy?”

They slip and slide and knock against each other back to the sectional. Harry tries to push Cisco down - at least that’s what Cisco assumes Harry’s trying to do when he slides a palm up Cisco’s spine and drapes his fingers around Cisco’s neck. Cisco rolls his shoulders, side steps, and that’s all it takes for Harry to stumble.

It’s magnificent. Really - the flail of limbs and the dirty curse Harry snaps as he falls. Cisco laughs until his ribs sharpen and it feels like his stomach is going to burst.

“Have I told you lately I hate you?” Harry asks with a mouthful of microfiber.

“Are you talking to me or the couch?”

Harry manages to straighten his shoulders and spine, sit straight, and glare. Affection pulses in Cisco’s cotton mouth.

“You’re so cute when you’re clumsy.”

The words have barely fallen out before Harry is reaching for him, earth spanning hands closing completely around his wrists, yanking him into the warmth of Harry’s lap.

“Shut up.” Harry smiles as he pulls against Cisco’s hands, sliding Cisco until his thighs are spilling over Harry’s spread legs. “You’re the cute one.”

Cisco rocks, getting more comfortable, making sure to brush Harry in all the ways that make him uncomfortable. “I’m not.”

Harry bites his disagreement against Cisco’s neck. Cisco’s head lulls, light from another Earth 2 kush and from Harry’s steady thrum of want. He sighs into the slick of Harry’s mouth as he reaches for the pipe on the couch cushion.

“You are though. Cutest thing in the multiverse.” Cisco takes a lungful of rolling calm. Exhales and watches the smoke swirl around Harry’s head. Harry noses up his cheek, hands slipping over Cisco’s sides, settling over his ribs. Fingertips sink into Cisco’s skin. They both breathe out, shaky. “Warmest thing, too.”

Palms slide over his back. “I know that’s not accurate. You’re just a weirdo. Maybe we should check you for Killer Frost DNA?”

Harry stops touching Cisco long enough to take his own hit. He practically shoves the pipe back into Cisco’s hands as he releases the breath, getting his fingers under Cisco’s shirt again before Cisco can blink past a drowsy wave of ache.

“You always do that,” Cisco says softly. He inhales the scent of Harry’s cologne, musky with weed, and rests his palm on the top of Harry’s head. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” Harry asks while he does it.

Cisco smiles into his next hit. “You always put your hands under my clothes. It makes Barry very uncomfortable, you know.”

“I’ll make sure I do it more, then.” He sweeps his hands from the dip of Cisco’s back to the flutter of his belly. “And because you’re warm.”

Cisco’s brain record scratches as Harry thumbs over his navel. Harry knows he’s weak there. “What?”

Nails scrape over his stomach, low enough that Harry’s fingers nudge the jeans that settle low anyway. “You’re stoned, Ramon.”

Cisco is going to argue that he’s not nearly as baked as Mr. Alaska, cold even in two sweaters, but then Harry’s fingers curl under the fabric, scratching over Cisco’s hips. Cisco’s eyes slip slow over the slice, the chill.

“It’s your own fault I can’t not touch you. You’re so warm. And cute. And - and soft.” Harry shudders a breath over Cisco’s throat. It’s heavy, and it slurs Cisco, sober as it is. “You make. It’s like. You make my hands feel. Hungry.”

Harry accentuates the sentiment by sliding his fingers outside of Cisco’s jeans again, settling heavy on the insides of Cisco’s thighs, and Harry squeezes. Hard. Like he his fingers can swallow the plush spread of Cisco’s skin. Like his hands are sturdy and starving enough to devour Cisco inside out.

It licks Cisco’s heart faster. The heavy hand of smoke usually kicks Cisco’s pulse quicker, but under Harry’s glazed over gaze, under Harry’s obvious thirst, Cisco can feel it in his throat. His tongue pulses with it.

Lowly, he hears Harry curse. His vision ripples clear enough to see Harry’s fingers fumbling over each other to slip at the zipper of his jeans.

“Earth 1 buttons are so much stupider.” Harry tugs clumsily at Cisco’s pants. “It’s poor design, really. You should. Is there someone you can talk to about that?”

“Yeah. Lemme just DM Calvin Klein.” Cisco realizes the sarcasm is softened, too much, by how breathy his voice slurs. But Harry has abandoned his messy attempts to undo Cisco’s fly and has settle for undoing Cisco. He’s cupping Cisco through the jeans, pressing heavy and steady, rubbing.

Cisco groans as he twists, stretching himself sore to slide the pipe and lighter on the pressed close coffee table. Harry keeps touching him, sloppy under the easy high and desperation. But Harry is always desperate. As if Cisco is going to slip from under his touch like smoke.

Harry watches him, eyes glazed, as he pulls off the STAR Labs shirt he stole from Harry and drops it on the floor. He watches Harry lick his lips - slow, so slow it’s like he forgets what he’s doing. One palm stays between Cisco’s legs while the other skirts along Cisco’s hip bone, ribs, to curl the wisps of his fingers in Cisco’s hair.

Cisco doesn’t tease. His limbs are too loose, too simple. His entire body feels easy. If Harry is hungry for him, Cisco can be a feast.

When Cisco reaches for the button of his jeans, though, Harry makes an angry noise and nips his chin.

“I’m tryna help, you cranky fuck.”

Harry smiles. All mean teeth and dripping mouth. He yanks Cisco’s hair sharper, stretching the lean muscle of Cisco’s throat. Harry drags the flat of his tongue over Cisco’s pulse.

“Harry - ”

“I’ll just make you come in your pants,” Harry slurs.

Cisco whines. Hates it, flushing hot, then does it again when Harry palms him harder. “Don’t be mean, Harry.”

“You were mean to me. You laughed.” Harry flicks his tongue against Cisco’s ear. Cisco slides his hips forward, rocking against Harry’s own dick, thick and trapped in his jeans. It draws a groan from Harry, annoyed, and Harry scrapes his teeth over Cisco’s collar. The drag of it is wet and warm and heavy over every inch of Cisco’s skin.

Harry kneads him over the pants. Cisco is heady with it. Feels thick and hot behind his eyes and in the curl of his toes.

“Thought you were hungry?” he tries, hoping to entice Harry to unwrap him, to unravel every taste.

“Starving.” Harry mouths over his jaw. Still doesn’t bother to work Cisco from his jeans.

Cisco gives in to Harry’s gravity. He slides deeper into his high then between Harry’s lips, licking past Harry’s teeth. Kissing Harry deep provides enough distraction for Cisco to undo his jeans. Harry doesn’t stutter; he shoves his rough hand into Cisco’s briefs and grips Cisco’s cock. He circles his thumb over the head, rubbing like breath over the slick slit.

“Love the way you feel in my hand.” Harry kisses his chin. Licks at his mouth, so damn soft Cisco barely hears it, and Cisco shakes. It’s the same way Harry likes to lick his dick. Harry is such a dick. “Just wanna play with you.”

“Harry - ” Cisco fucks into Harry’s touch but it’s too lose to be anything other than aching. Cisco feels like a needy thing, just as hungry as Harry is. “M’not a toy.”

“Mmm,” Harry murmurs, meaningless, into his mouth.

Harry likes to savor it, sometimes, when they get like this. Likes to push and pull and roll through the lush of their lust until they’re both too exhausted to do anything more than grin at each other.  

Cisco could bitch more. He could unpeel himself from Harry’s lap and strip himself bare for Harry’s pot sharpened teeth. Harry would pout and throw his hands up, probably smack himself in the process, but Harry’s tongue would be too occupied to do anything but lick the marrow from him.

Cisco doesn’t. Instead he loops his arms around Harry’s neck and fills Harry’s ear with moans while Harry jerks him off in his underwear. They’re silk. Harry will ruin them - make Cisco ruin them. It’s worth it, when Harry twists his wrist, thumbs over his balls, pumps him until the fabric and Harry’s hand is soaked with come.

But Harry doesn’t stop.

“Baby,” Cisco whispers, shuddering. “Let me, now, it’s your turn - ”

Harry nuzzles against his cheek. “Still hungry.”

The drags of Harry’s fingers, twilight gentle as they are, is still enough to make Cisco twitch. Harry uses his own slick to jerk him even more smoothly. Cisco tries to quiet his moan, how soft it is, but Harry touches him more easily, and Cisco can’t resist.  

So Cisco doesn’t. Doesn’t keep pretending he’s not going to give Harry exactly what he wants, that he doesn’t want the same thing. He kisses Harry, groaning. Harry swallows it.


	2. mob boss!harry + citizen!cisco + lap dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry is an underworld bad guy figure, cisco is an exotic dancer, a lap dance and ust is exchanged. implied violence.

This. Damn. Song.

Cisco has a healthy appreciation for pop music from the late ‘60’s. Being a dancer at Fire and Ice, he has a healthy appreciation for most slow beat, heavy synth, easy to grind to pop music. But who can give a good lap dance to Time of the Season?

He’s seen Cindy pull it off once, but he learned a long time ago not to measure their abilities side by side.

The chords of it drizzle low and slick over the club. Cisco slides his empty tray onto the bar and rests his head in his elbows. From behind the bar, Lisa pats his head.

“Sounds like our favorite client is here,” he hears Cindy say. He looks up to see her sliding on the stool next to him. She flashes Lisa her most charming devil grin. “You know I heard he beat some guy to death with a car door?”

“Hot,” Lisa says. She lines up three shot glasses and fills with them with Hot Damn. “In honor of our favorite client.”

“I never get requests during this damn song.” Cisco hesitates to take his shot, but the two scariest and prettiest women he knows narrow their eyes, and he sighs. He knows he won’t get in trouble for breaking the rules; Lisa is the owner’s sister, after all, and Cindy is the club’s best earner.

“No one gets requests during this damn song,” Cindy says. She pushes her glass towards Lisa for another shot.

“It’s rude, is what it is. And inconsiderate. Like, this is our place of business. I get that all the bad guys need a place to unwindulax and do their shady deals. But can they at least take into consideration that I need to make that coin too? I don’t give a fuck about their personal British invasion fetish. I need a song I can twerk to.”

Lisa and Cindy don’t say a word. It doesn’t stop the frustration from frazzling Cisco’s nerves. It’s been a slow night and he only has approximately $100 more in his tip jar than he did when he started his shift. Which will help him cover groceries, sure, but he needs new shoes. Everyone that’s come in is either not buying or looking for something that Cisco is not, which is bullshit. He curled his hair before his shift and he’s wearing the red hot pants.

“And what’s up with requesting the same song every time he comes in?” Cisco continues. “I think that’s what really pisses me off. Not only is Harry Wells an asshole, he’s a boring asshole. An unoriginal, frankly lazy, boring asshole that never buys a dance and always tips lousy.”

“Cisco,” Lisa says softly.

“Okay. Maybe bashing a guy’s head in between a car door is fresh. But you’d think he could bring a little of that energy in here, right? At least tip better if we’re going to have to suffer through his shitty taste in music.”

“Cisco.” This time it’s Cindy who says his name. Her eyes are narrow and her jaw is clenched. There’s sudden color on her cheeks, blurring the freckles on her face.

Cisco blinks at her a few times before realizing that’s not the alcohol flushing her skin, that the thin press of her red lips isn’t irritation, isn’t her trying not to smile at Cisco’s rant.

Shit.

“Shit,” Cisco breathes, closing his eyes. “He’s right behind me, isn’t he?”

“Good evening, Mr. Wells,” Lisa says. The saccharine note in her voice makes Cisco’s teeth throb. “Will you be having the usual?”

Cisco doesn’t even turn around. He doesn’t need to see the cranky face of his personal reaper up close. He meets Cindy’s eyes and silently asks her to hide his porn and feed his fish after he dies.

People don’t just insult one of the most notoriously ill tempered players in Central City’s criminal underground. Cisco heard he beat a man to death for making fun of his hair.

There’s a sturdy line of heat behind him. It’s close and smells expensive, good, and Cisco’s heart tries to beat backwards to get a little closer. He shudders at the feeling of a chest - of Harrison has literally ripped someone’s throat open with his teeth Wells’ chest - brushing his back.

“I think I’ll go with a seven and seven tonight, Mrs. Snart.” Hot breath against Cisco’s ear and oh God he’s about to get eaten alive - “Wouldn’t want to be accused of being boring, now would I?”

“I don’t think anyone would accuse you of that,” Cindy says, because she’s a dick. She slides off her stool a little, leans into Cisco’s space to lull Harry’s attention to her bikini top. “I could bring it to your table, if you’d like.”

Cisco turns wide eyes to her. She can’t sacrifice herself for him. He opens his mouth but before any words can come out, Harry’s fingers bite into his shoulder.

Harry’s mouth slides even closer. His lips brush Cisco’s ear and Cisco can already feel his teeth. “That won’t be necessary. You’ll bring it to me, won’t you? We can discuss more of your music theory.”

With that, Harry turns. Lisa fixes his drink and Cisco tries to remember every place he has lube stashed in his apartment so his parents don’t find anything embarrassing after his funeral.

Lisa and Cindy send him to the table with some appetizers and two loving gazes. As he approaches Harry, he tries to remind himself that he interacts with criminals all the time. Just last week he grinded all up on a notorious jewel thief then gave lap dances to a bridal party made up of assassins. Sure their combined hit count might have been less than Harry Wells’, but he’s been running the city’s criminal underground since before Cisco knew what twerking was.

This is no big deal. This is fine. The guy probably just wants to intimidate him for being an ass then he’ll go back to being an ass. Everything will be okay.

“Here’s your drink, sir.” Cisco slides it on the table. “And Lisa’s hand made mango salsa. On the house.”

He says it in a rush but he doesn’t stutter or cry so he counts it as a win. When he turns to leave, he has a moment of imagining he’s home free. He can taste the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Wait.”

Damn it. God fucking damn it.

Cisco takes a deep breath and reaches into the depths of his strength to paint on a smile.

“Something else I can get for you, Mr. Wells?”

Harry’s grin is sharp, salacious, and if Cisco had any doubt in his mind that Harry Wells was as scary as everyone says he is, it has burned to ash. His fear makes a fucked up slant into his lust when Harry settles back into the booth, legs spreading in the casual confidence of wealth and power.

Shit. Now is not the time to notice again that there’s a certain handsomeness in the crinkles around Harry’s wolf eyes, a certain lurid charm to how pink his machete mouth gleams.

“You know, in all the times I’ve been here, I realize I’ve never taken full advantage of what this club has to offer.” He takes a drink, eyes taking in Cisco’s body and nerves the same way he sips up the seven and seven. Slow and deliberate. “I think I should remedy that, don’t you?”

It’s a trap. Cisco knows it’s a trap. But he can’t escape it.

“Yes,” Cisco agrees. “We have a lot of great dancers. I’d be happy to - ”

“I want you.”

Cisco clenches his jaw. Harry’s smirk deepens, revealing boyish dimples that clash with animal hunger. It shouldn’t be attractive.

“I already asked Mr. Rory to start the song over,” Harry says, as if that’s what’s keeping Cisco cemented in place. Harry settles even slicker into his chair. He pats his lap.

Cisco tucks his hair behind his ears and summons his inner Sasha Fierce. Harry wants to flex his power, teach Cisco a lesson. Not eat him. Cisco can play his game.

Cisco is good at games.

Harry threads his hands behind his head. Something about the lazy stretch of his predator lean and vicious grin bites away at Cisco’s fear. By the time Cisco is straddling his lap, Cisco is only 25% afraid. He’s 60% pissed. 15% into it.

Harry licks his lips once Cisco settles on top of him. Okay. Maybe 25% into it.

Cisco gives himself a moment to breathe the moment in. Let the music soak his skin, make his limbs heavy and slick. The actual cover pumping through the speakers is a lot slower than the original, but it’s still not his gig. Cisco tries to slide wet into the beat anyway.

“Anytime,” Harry says.

Make Beyoncé proud, Cisco tells himself, and starts to move.

The beat catches. Cisco balances on his knees, leans in close, makes sure to keep his gaze even and locked with Harry’s. It only makes the smirk deepen.

Cisco generally uses a lot of hairography in his dances; the rhythm of the song doesn’t really allow for it. Instead he runs a hand through his hair while he rolls his hips forward, lets his shoulders fall back. It stretches him taut and vulnerable. Harry’s breathing picks up a bit when Cisco runs his fingertips over his neck.

Ha, dick. Cisco tries to keep his own smirk from unfurling.

The song starts over. Cisco stutters on his next grind. Fuck. He forgot he had to do it all over again.

“Problem?” Harry asks.

Cisco takes as much pride as he can in the fact that Harry’s eyes are a little more black than when they started.

“No. Just threw off my rhythm.”

Harry laughs. “Rhythm? You’re just dry humping me. Doesn’t require a lot of rhythm.”

“Dry humping?” Cisco clenches his jaw. Thinks about flashing his own teeth in the gleam of Harry’s shark grin. “It’s a little more than that.” Cisco knows he’s fucking himself over by leaning to breathe against Harry’s mouth, but he has some professional pride and he can’t let the dig go. “If it wasn’t, you’d be looking for a new pair of pants already.”

Instead of killing him, Harry just laughs again. A real, bellowing laugh. He leans his head back a little, sweeping his gaze over Cisco, and Cisco doesn’t miss the way his eyes catch on the spread of Cisco’s thighs.

“You’re pretty,” Harry says, startling Cisco more than anything. “I’ll give you that. But you’re not as skilled as you think you are.”

If I had a better song, Cisco starts to say, but bites his tongue. This isn’t getting him anywhere and if he doesn’t give Harry the lap dance of his life, Harry will probably just make him try again. Or flex more than his influence to punish Cisco for his earlier insults.

So Cisco doesn’t say anything. He puts his hands on Harry’s chest - which is really firm, actually, and Cisco is just going to file that away for later - and uses the leverage to get one leg between Harry’s own. The song has gotten to the bridge, just repeating that it’s the time of the season for loving, and Cisco sinks under the music.

He rolls his hips, his stomach, the way Cindy taught him, and Harry’s eyes fall on his abs. Cisco runs one hand over his belly, up his chest, then up, letting it hang over his head and move with his body. The music is a little faster than Cisco is used to, but after a couple of fumbles he finally gets his hips to sway to the beat.

The music slows and flows into the second verse. Cisco lets it pull him closer to Harry’s heavy breathing, push his hips and chest flush to Harry’s skin. He winds his arms around Harry’s neck.

When the song asks what’s your name, who’s your daddy, Cisco smirks. Undulates his hips and bites his lip. Harry stares at his mouth.

Cisco slides off and around, dropping his neck for the first hair flip of the dance, and he’s pretty sure he pulls it off. The whole movement feels fluid, slick. He settles fully on Harry’s lap again, back to his chest, and rocks to the rhythm.

He winds his hands back. Hesitates. If this were anyone else, he wouldn’t think twice about trailing his fingertips over Harry’s flushed cheeks, twirling Harry’s hair between his fingers and a smile. Harry didn’t seem to mind Cisco’s arms around his neck.

In the end, Cisco decides let one hand rest on Harry’s shoulder. He slides the other down his front to tweak his chest. It’s a crowd favorite. Harry shifts underneath him and Cisco lets his head tip back in a grin.

Harry’s own hands come up, then, splaying bold over Cisco’s belly. The touch is warm and unexpected - Harry’s hands are rough and big - and startle Cisco into resting fully on Harry’s lap. When Harry chuckles in his ear, dark and warm, Cisco decides to up the ante.

Cisco puts his hands on Harry’s and guides them as slowly as he can to that soft space where his hips curl into his thighs. Harry’s fingers bite at him. He enjoys it for just a moment before tilting his head back.

“You’re not allowed to touch me, you know,” Cisco breathes. “It’s against the rules.”

“That’s a fucking stupid rule,” Harry bites back.

The honest put out in his voice makes Cisco laugh. He pushes Harry’s hands off of him.

“It’s supposed to keep the dancers safe. There are some pretty nasty types that come in here.” Cisco grinds against him. It’s not on beat. He doesn’t think Harry notices.

“You probably shouldn’t be trash talking them then, should you?” Harry asks against his ear. He’s pressed close, touching Cisco without touching him.

Cisco dips forward, rocking his neck and back then his ass up, finding his rhythm again. The song is almost over. He wants to give Harry a good finish.

He bends again, using the momentum to rock onto his feet. Flipping his hair again, he looks over his shoulder to see Harry watching him with lidded eyes. Cisco winks before rolling down again. He shakes and grinds and undulates to the final beats of the song, whips his hair back, drops it low. When he snaps to stand again, he backs it up, straight up grinding on Harry’s lap.

Harry makes a noise over the music. It’s strangled and strained but Cisco hears it. A thrill crashes low in his belly. He rocks back again, feeling for the first time that Harry is half hard in his jeans, and he bites his lip to keep from adding his own noise to Harry’s next stuttered groan.

The song fades. The quieter it gets the harder Cisco grinds. When the music finally blurs into the next track, Cisco rests his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“Was that satisfactory, Mr. Wells?”

Harry shakes his head. He looks amused if still a shade of pissed off. When he speaks, he makes sure to brush his mouth over Cisco’s cheek. “That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one day.”

“It gets me in trouble every day,” Cisco says with a smile.

“I’m sure it does,” Harry agrees, grinning madly back. “You did a little better than I expected.”

Cisco wants to flip him off. Instead he shrugs, trying for nonchalant, and sits up straighter. “I guess I just needed the proper motivation to make that song work for me.”

Harry makes an agreeable noise then noses along Cisco’s jaw. It’s breaking the no touching rule but Cisco doesn’t feel like enforcing it.

“You know I’ve had people’s blood for less than you said.” Harry says in conversationally, lips dragging against Cisco’s skin. “Do you think you’ve made up for your disrespect?”

“I hope not,” Cisco says.

Harry smiles against his neck. “What’s your name?”

“You gonna ask me who my daddy is, too? If he’s rich like you?” Cisco feels Harry throb beneath him. He gives into the urge to find against the twitch. This time, when Harry grips Cisco by the hips, Cisco doesn’t push him away.

“I don’t think a brat like you could keep a daddy. Especially not a rich one.”

Cisco grinds down again, hard, and Harry takes a sharp breath. “You’d be surprised,” Cisco grins. He tries to slide out of Harry’s lap, but Harry’s fingers pull him back.

“I want another dance,” Harry breathes.

Cisco doesn’t know if he’s mentally prepared to give another performance. He’s already flirted with death tonight. And flirting is one thing. Cisco doesn’t know how much deeper into Harry’s gravitational pull he could fall if he doesn’t quit while he’s ahead.

“Do I get to pick the song?”

Harry’s laugh tumbles down Cisco’s chest. It’s wet and dark. Cisco rocks against Harry again.

“Most people in your position would’ve been scared out of their minds. Would’ve begged. I can’t figure out if you’re brave or naive or just plain stupid.”

“Then they wouldn’t have gotten to this position,” Cisco says. He lets his hand reach back, fingertips finding the soft skin of Harry’s neck. “Which is not a particularly bad position to be in.”

The music changes again, almost suddenly, and Cisco follows the cue.

“Last call.” This time when he tries to stand, Harry lets him. “Sorry, Mr. Wells. Now more dances after last call.”

Harry huffs a heavy sigh. “Fine. I’ll get my other dances another time.”

Cisco doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he ignores it. He reaches for the tray to bring back to the bar, but as he turns to leave, Harry grips his wrist. It’s not bruising tight. Cisco could yank out of it if he wanted to He doesn’t want to.

Harry keeps holding him with one hand while he uses his other to reach for his wallet. Cisco watches him tug a few hundred dollar bills out. The sight of them makes Cisco’s mouth go dry.

Harry tucks the money into his hot pants. “What’s your name?” Harry asks again, smolder focused on Cisco so intently it makes Cisco squirm.

“My name is Hartley,” Cisco lies.

Harry narrows his eyes. “You don’t look like a Hartley.”

Cisco just shrugs, heart pounding in his chest. It seems both too dangerous and too easy to give Harry his real name, at least in this stage of whatever game they’re playing. Harry watches him for several more moments before releasing his grip on Cisco’s wrist.

“Hartley. I’ll request you next time.”

Cisco nods. He can’t decided if he wants there to be a next time or not until he counts his tip.

-

There is a next time. Cisco doesn’t find out until Hartley’s been summoned then angrily dismissed from Harry’s table. Hartley doesn’t say anything, just flips Cisco off, but Cisco bets Harry is pretty pissed.

Cisco will just have to make it up to him.


	3. sequel to mob boss!harry + stripper!cisco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: any plans to make a sequel to the stripper harrisco fic? i loved it :)

“You don’t know how to tip,” Cisco tells Harrison as he hands over a shot of Fireball.

Harrison raises an eyebrow. He takes the shot without a grimace. Cisco thinks it’s just as cool as the first time he did it.

“I tipped in hundreds.”

Cisco rolls his eyes and straddles Harrison’s hips. It’s just them in a back room, alone in the low light and low pulse of music, no brightness or noise or other bodies to distract them. Harrison asks for the room every time he comes to the club now.

“You know the amount to tip. But not how to do it.”

Harrison rolls his eyes right back. “I suppose you’re going to show me, then? Out of the kindness of your heart?”

“I just don’t want you to ruin your reputation as a monster by outing yourself as a lame embarrassment at the strip club.” Cisco smiles before leaning in, nosing at the dimple of Harrison’s grin. Cisco hears him exhale heavily. Still smiling, he tilts his head back, holding out an open palm. “Gimme.”

“You’re not nearly cute enough for the amount of tips I’ve been dropping.”

“Cindy says I’m the cutest boy in the whole world. You saying she’s wrong?”

Harrison pulls a hundred out of his wallet anyway. When Cisco reaches for it, Harrison teases it away.

“Maybe the third cutest,” Harrison amends. Cisco snatches the bill.

He stands and shakes his hair. It falls in loose curls over his shoulders. Harrison watches him with open, obvious hunger. Cisco knows Harrison wants to touch it - pull it, probably, among a dozen other aches. He can feel his own stupid bloodlust reflected back at him in Harrison’s gaze.

Club rules remind him what a bad fucking decision it would be to actually give in to Harrison King of the Underworld Wells. The way Harrison licks his lips when Cisco dances reminds him that he’s a fucking moron who’s been making increasingly bad decisions his entire life.

He’s not crossing any lines with this, though. He’s flirting, yes. Teasing the sharp teeth of a hungry animal, yes. But not doing anything that would have Rory tossing he or Harrison out.

“So this is you,” Cisco begins.

He cocks his hip, fist on his side, and tries to project the air of arrogant menace that rolls from Harrison easy and in waves. The casual violence and power and sex that marks him as dangerous and sets Cisco’s skin on fire. Cisco thinks he’s struck something close when Harrison shifts on the bench.   
  
Cisco smirks, stalking forward, twirling the bill. “You just kind of wave this like a little flag, then take the sucker’s way out.” He slides the hundred in his go go shorts. Snaps the waistband.

Harrison stares at Cisco’s thighs. He doesn’t even pretend he’s not as thirsty for it as Cisco is.

“How do the cool kids tip their stripper, then?”

“Their entertainer,” Cisco says. He pulls the bill out and hands it to Harrison. When Harrison tries to take it, Cisco snatches it away.

“Brat,” Harrison says fondly. Cisco hands it over.

“Put it between your teeth.”

Both of Harrison’s eyebrows raise.

“That’s disgusting. Do you know where that money has been?”

“In my pants. Come on, Harrison. Trust me.”

Harrison eyes him warily. It’s a battle of wills that thrills Cisco to win. Harrison Wells, the man so powerful and cruel and obscenely feared some people don’t speak his name, has just slid a hundred dollar bill between his fangs. Cisco’s skin goes hot.

“Amatuer,” Cisco says, lighter than he feels, and moves to stand between Harrison’s spread knees. Harrison glares up at him. It’s a good angle and a good look. Cisco’s fingers only shake a little when he eases the bill from Harrison and turns it horizontally. “Hold it like this. I’ll have to get a lot closer to you.”

Harrison lets Cisco gentle the money back into place. His eyes never leave Cisco’s mouth. Cisco drinks in the moment, the heat of Harrison’s gaze, all wrath and lust and sin, and the way Harrison’s breathing picks up. He slips back onto Harrison’s lap.

He leans in, a breath way, tilting his head to angle as close as possible. Harrison’s hands automatically curl around his hips.

“See?” he breathes. He rubs their noses together, too intimate and too chaste. “I have to get right up on you now. Isn’t that better?”

He takes the hundred between his own teeth, smiling around it when he pulls back.

“As good as kissing, right?” Cisco asks as he shoves the bill back into his shorts.

Harrison doesn’t bitch about the extra tip. He knocks Cisco completely off guard, instead, shaking his head with a smile. “If you think that’s as good as kissing, I feel very sorry for anyone you’ve ever kissed.”

Cisco frowns.

“I’m an amazing kisser, thank you very much.”

“Then maybe you haven’t been kissed properly.” Harrison tilts his head. He brings one hand up, cuping Cisco’s jaw, running his thumb along Cisco’s cheek in a deceptively gentle touch. “I’d be happy to show you just how much better it can be.”

Cisco sways. “You know that’s against the rules.”

Harrison shrugs. “So is giving me the name of one of your co-workers. I’ve never told on you, though.”

“Are you threatening to now?” Cisco’s gaze drops to Harrison’s mouth. It’s so pink it’s stupid. Cisco knows it won’t taste anything like all the sweet images it conjures, but he wants to test it. Lick inside and suck at Harrison’s tongue and see if he gets a sugar high.

Harrison’s fingers press into his hips, breaking Cisco’s day dream. “You know what kind of man I am, Cisco. And that I’m not opposed to aggressive seduction. But I’d never force you. I’d never put you in danger. You do that well enough on your own.”

It’s entirely sincere. Harrison has no reason to lie. Cisco doesn’t know how to hold what Harrison’s just given him.

“Don’t be cute. You’ll ruin the moment.”

Harrison smiles again, slow, and opens his mouth like he’s going to speak. Cisco is sure whatever Harrison is going to say will get him into more trouble than Rory catching them making out.

He kisses Harrison for the first time. He’s addicted, instantly, but he was right. It isn’t sweet at all.


	4. accidental love potion spilled on harry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> set s3. rated g.

“Okay, Iris. Tell us where to move.” Cisco adjusts his goggles and waits for Iris to give he and Wally the run down.

There are four bad guys and only two of them. Luckily he’s pretty sure the couple, Eros and Himeros, aren’t capable of doing too much damage with their failed Cupid Arrows - Cisco’s name for the little darts they used to shoot a useless serum into their enemies. The others, White Lightening and Cobalt Blue - not Cisco’s names - have already proven to be a little more trouble.

“White Lightening and Cobalt Blue are headed towards the center of town. Loverboys are headed to the police station.”

“We’ll take East and West to the center, then,” Cisco says. Wally nods.

Harry breathes heavily into the comm. Cisco knows it says a lot about how many villains they’ve been taking down that he can tell how cranky Harry is by the sound of his breath.

Wally drops his head back in annoyance. “Harry. What is it?”

“You don’t think Wally should go after Eros and Himeros? They could wreak havoc on the cops and he should be able to take them down now that we actually know where they are.”

“The CCPD can handle themselves against some guys in costume,” Iris says crisply. “Both of you, on - ”

“Unless they get their Cupid Arrows in Central City’s finest. Wally should take them.”

Cisco and Wally exchange Looks. Cisco is sure Iris is delivering her own newly patented I’m Team Leader Look to Harry in the lab.

“I think the cops can handle some arrows,” Cisco says. “The only person who can bring arrows to a gunfight and not get his ass kicked is the actual Arrow. And it’s not like their serum works, so…”

There’s silence on the other end of the comm. Too much silence. Cisco can’t even feel Harry glaring at him through time and space. He narrows his eyes.

“So there’s not a problem,” Cisco continues. “Right? Harry?”

“I don’t know,” Harry admits after a few more moments of silence. He sounds strained. “I’m not. Sure.”

“What exactly are you not sure about?” Iris asks.

“I’m not sure if the serum works or not, okay? So Wally needs to get to the CCPD and Ramon needs to get to the center of town.”

“Wait. What do you mean you’re not sure?” Wally asks. “They got you with a dart, Cisco vibed you and saved you, but you didn’t fall in love with any of us. … Right?”

Silence. More silence. Cisco tries to think back over the encounter, over what Eros and Himeros told him. The serum was injected into a person through the dart and once it spread, the first person they saw -

Oh.

 _Oh_.

“Harry,” Iris says. There’s no patience in her voice.

“I don’t know if it worked because Cisco was the first person I looked at after I was hit,” Harry says. There’s no patience in his voice, either.

Wally’s move forms an ‘o’ and he brings his hands up to his face. He mouths you and Harry and throws up his hands. Cisco really doesn’t have anything to give him. He throws his hands up back.

“Okay,” Iris says slowly. “Wally. CCPD. You take those guys down as quick as possible then meet up with Cisco.”

“On it,” Wally says. He gives Cisco a final look and speeds off.

“We’re talking about this later,” Cisco says into his comm. There’s no answer. “Harry.”

“Go save the world, Ramon,” Harry grits.

“Okay. But then we’re talking.”

“Fine. Just. Go.”

Cisco nods, then heads to the center of town. He can’t shake the smile off his face.


	5. i know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> set s3. rated g.

Harry is tinkering pointlessly with Cisco’s goggles, trying to distract himself from the way Cisco keeps watching him. There’s something pensive and soft in the dark of Cisco’s eyes. It clashes with the upturn of his obnoxiously lush mouth.

“You wanna take a picture?” Harry mutters.

Cisco, oddly, doesn’t rise to the bait. Instead he cradles his chin in both hands and says, “You know I can take care of myself.”

“I know,” Harry says automatically. Because he does. “What?”

“That whole speech you gave to Wally about the importance of protecting our identities. How we needed to take care of each other and the people around us. I’m not saying you didn’t have your points but - come on. Wally wears his mask and if people don’t know I’m Vibe by now then I could literally breach into their house and they wouldn’t look up from Candy Crush.”

Harry frowns. “That’s no reason to be reckless.”

“I’m not saying I’m going to start running around with my social security number printed on my suit. Just that you don’t have to worry.”

“I don’t,” Harry lies. How can he not? Every single person he cares for is in life or death danger literally everyday. Of course he worries.

“Liar,” Cisco says. His expression is still tender and amused. It makes Harry’s chest pull tight, like his heart is caught on something. “Maybe it’s too much to ask you not to worry. But can you try to worry less? About me, anyway. I can take care of myself and the team.”

“I know,” Harry repeats, giving up on the goggles. He sets them on the table, slumping along with the straps. His head aches. His everything aches, actually. “You shouldn’t have to though. Not all the time. There should be someone.”

Harry realizes his tongue has gone stupid with exhaustion and manages to bite it before he truly embarrasses himself. He thinks, anyway, until he glances to see the mild waters of Cisco’s face break into something vicious. Cisco smiles like he knows all of Harry’s secrets.

“Someone?” Cisco asks, tilting his head.

“Someone else, I mean. To - to - it shouldn’t ever just be one person taking care of everyone. You should have, you know, someone who can do that for you. And the team. Everyone. You know.”

Cisco’s grin sharpens. It gets right under Harry’s paper skin. Harry picks up the glasses again and tries to imagine anything other than how Cisco’s smile would taste.

“You saying you wanna take care of me, Harry?”

Harry’s fingers slip on the goggles.

“No,” Harry says, fully aware of how helpless he sounds.

Cisco slides off the chair.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start with you, Ramon,” Harry says. Something more wild than panic knocks around in his chest. Cisco is moving closer, mouth still gentle, and Harry may really not know where to begin but he knows where he wants to finish.

Cisco bites his lip and - okay. Harry might have a few ideas of where he wants to start taking care of Cisco the way no one else seems to. At least of where he wants to take Cisco apart.

Iris chooses that moment to come into the workshop. A flood rushes through Harry and he doesn’t know if it’s annoyance or relief.

She moves slower when she spots them, her own lips quirking as she takes in the lack of space and air between them. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Harry answers at the same time Cisco answers, “Yes.”

Iris grins.

Harry has to leave. He swipes the goggles and gets to his feet. He wonders if there’s any way Cisco and Iris don’t notice the trembling in his fingers. From their shared smiles, he guesses there’s not.

“I don’t have time to play around,” Harry tells them with as much control as he can command. “We have things to do. I have things to do. Important and scientific things and I can’t have you two distracting me.”

He leaves at that, storming away with goggles and what’s left of his dignity. Cisco calls after him, promising to come check on his gear in a while. Harry tightens his fingers around the glasses.


	6. vampire au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cisco and harry breach to an actual vampire au. set s3. rated t.

The last component they need - well, the last component Cisco thinks they need - to stabilize the speed force and keep the speedsters on Earth isn’t actually on Earth. Earth-1, anyway.

It’s not on Earth-2. Harry still insists it’s Earth-1. It’s not the first obnoxious thing Harry says on their multiverse adventure and it’s definitely not the last. Cisco rolls his eyes and says he doesn’t even know why he brought Harry, but they both know that’s not true.

Earth-15 is a bust too but they run into another Cisco who wears glasses and has three kids. Earth-21 has the cowboys. Cisco really wants to find Harry’s doppelganger but Harry’s mouth manages to get them in a bar fight before they can. Earth-31 has pirates, which is awesome, especially when they spot Cisco’s doppelganger on a wanted poster. No speed force stabilizing materials, though, so they move on.

Earth-43 doesn’t have it, either. It does have both a Cisco and a Harry, one of the few Earth’s where they’ve found both of themselves. It’s the first Earth they’ve found where Cisco and Harry are dating. It’s also the first one they’ve found with vampires.

Cisco doesn’t know what’s weirder.

It happens like this. They find the Earth-43 STAR Labs which turns out to be a freaky kind of amalgamation of 60’s sci fi cliches and Hot Topic aesthetic. Considering it’s near midnight Earth-43 time, Cisco and Harry expect the labs to be empty. They’re not. People in suits who Cisco can only describe as sharp are speaking in clipped tones and buzzing about like it’s perfectly natural to be doing business at the witching hour.

Cisco and Harry manage to sneak past enough people to find Cisco and Harry in an empty lab. There are people in hyperbaric chambers getting what look like blood transfusions. Their doppelgangers are making out. Hard.

“This is a bad Earth,” Harry says, alerting their doubles to their presence.

Cisco would hit him for blowing their cover but he’s a little distracted by watching their doppelgangers break apart, noting that they both have fangs peeking over their lips. There is blood on Cisco’s neck and Harry’s mouth. Cisco thinks Harry is right. This is a bad Earth.

“Told you they would be here before midnight,” freaking vampire Cisco says, smirking around his sharp teeth. He looks both Cisco and Harry up and down in a way that reminds Cisco entirely too much of Reverb. It makes Cisco’s teeth throb and ignites an itch in his throat he tries to swallow away. The doubles watch the movement. They both look hungry.

“Um,” Cisco says. He tries not to bite or lick his lips or do anything to draw more of their knifed hunger. “Hi. You guys don’t happen to have any - ”

“No,” other Cisco answers with a grin. He and other Harry move a little closer. Cisco looks at his Harry to watch him watch his vampire self lick the remaining blood from his mouth. “Sorry. That was rude. I’ve just vibed this already, so I knew what you were going to ask.”

“You have your powers here, too?” Harry asks.

Vampire Cisco’s smile goes blood deep. “We have our powers in nearly every universe, Harrison.”

Suddenly they’re both a lot closer. Vampire Cisco is standing in front of Harry, studying him with a fondness that feels both ancient and cruel, and vampire Harry looms over Cisco, inhaling deep, nostrils flaring.

“I forgot how you smelled as a human,” vampire Cisco says wistfully. Vampire Harry looks at him with a smile.

“Okaaay.” Cisco threads his arm through Harry’s and pulls him close. He half expects Harry to push him away - get off, Ramon - but Harry presses himself into Cisco’s side. “Well this has been weird. We’re gonna go back to our less creepy Earth now. Nice to meet you.”

Vampire Harry takes a step closer, swaying into Cisco’s orbit enough to through his entire universe out of whack. The fangs are still extended. There’s still a fleck of red on the side of his mouth. Up close, there are a few less crows feet around his eyes. He looks younger than Cisco’s Harry. Cisco has the oddest urge to run his fingers along the vampire’s skin.

“You don’t smell like each other,” Vampire Harry says and tilts his head. His voice is even rougher than Harry’s is normally. “I thought you said - ”

Whatever he thought vampire Cisco said, they never hear. Harry pulls Cisco back and even closer against him. He straightens to his full height.

“We just took a shower. Earth jumping is messy business, after all. We have more places to go tonight, so we’ll be leaving now.”

The vampires exchange glances, hungry smirks, and Cisco should probably not be as fascinated by the gleam of their sharpness. There is murder shining on their mouths. They both let their gazes fall on him, deceptively soft, and Cisco feels his heart knock against his chest in curiosity. It just wants to get a little closer.

Cisco knows this feeling. The I just want to see swoop that had him free falling against Lisa Snart and Cindy and every other intense, deadly smile that’s hurt him.

He grips Harry harder.

“You don’t really want to leave yet, do you, Francisco?” Vampire Cisco asks. “I know you must be curious about this Earth. You must have so many questions.”

“Francisco says you’re inquisitive,” Vampire Harry says. “A lot like him. I admit, I’m a bit jealous. He sees you in his vibes and can describe you to me, but I haven’t seen you for myself.”

“You’re not missing much,” Harry says. “He’s awful.”

And Cisco knows Harry is trying to protect him but his gut reaction is to jostle Harry’s side with his elbow and tell him, “Fuck off. I’m charming as fuck. Cindy said I was a treat.”

Cisco realizes that he’s a fucking idiot the second the word leaves his mouth, but he’s already slipped his stupidity out into the universe. He turns a weak grin to the vampires in front of him. They’ve moved closer.

This really isn’t how Cisco wanted to die.

“I’m sure this Cindy was correct,” Vampire Harry says. He looks to his Cisco as if for confirmation.

Vampire Cisco makes a soft sound and brings his palm to his Harry’s cheek. The touch appears tender; Harry’s eyes flutter at the brush of skin. Cisco’s chest compresses painfully. He’s never gotten to touch his Harry like that, be touched like that. It would be nice, he thinks.

“I forget sometimes. You never got to taste me when I was human.”

Vampire Cisco runs his thumb over his Harry’s lips and his Harry kisses it, gentle. They look in love. Scary and murderous and in love. Cisco is so jealous he grinds his jaw.

His doppelganger leans in, brushing his fangs over Harry’s neck as he speaks, but his eyes are dragging sharp over Cisco’s face. “I was told I tasted very sweet. That I was a treat.”

“So you’ve said,” Vampire Harry whispers. He’s staring obscenely at Cisco’s throat.

Cisco should probably shrink, so of course his brain does the opposite and makes him straighten his spine, lengthen his neck. The vampires lick their fangs.

“You two must be so tired from traveling. Are you sure you don’t want to stay the night with us?” Vampire Cisco asks.

“At least stay for a meal,” Vampire Harry adds.

Cisco looks at Harry. Harry looks at him. Cisco doesn’t think they’re on the same page.

“That’s a generous offer,” Cisco begins. Harry’s eyes widen and his jaw does the angry jumping thing that makes Cisco’s tongue tingle. Definitely not on the same page. “But I think we’re gonna have to take a rain check.”

Vampire Cisco pouts. It looks odd and hilarious under the fangs.

He recovers when vampire Harry kisses his forehead. His face takes on a gentler tone. He moves forward.

“Don’t be afraid, Francisco. We won’t hurt you or your Harrison. There are things we can show you that you can’t find on your Earth. Please. Allow us the pleasure.”

Both of them extend their hands. Their nails are long. Sharp. Cisco can already imagine what they would feel like in his skin, against his tongue -

“For fuck’s sake,” Harry rasps and yanks on Cisco’s arm. “Open a damn breach, Ramon.”

The force of Harry’s voice and Harry’s touch knock the growing haze of lust and envy and all of Cisco’s other sins out of his head. They have a mission and no time for creepy hot vampire threesomes - foursomes, if Harry decides to join the program.

“Ramon.”

“Right. Time to vibe. Sorry my dudes.” Cisco gives them his widest smile. “Rain check.”

He opens the breach and lets Harry yank him through.

-

When they get back to their Earth, Harry pulls him from the breach and immediately pushes at his chest, crowding him against a wall in the same workshop they were just in, 42 Earth’s away.

“Hey,” Cisco snaps, shoving at Harry right back. “What the hell?”

“What the hell me? What the hell you!” Harry throws his hands up and tugs at his hair. He looks manic. “You - you were going to let them eat you!”

“I was not,” Cisco says, offended, even though he kind of was. He gets his hands under his backpack and adjusts it, glaring. Harry’s glaring back. He looks unconvinced and unimpressed and caught between pissed and frantic. Cisco feels properly chastised.

“They weren’t asking you over for pizza, Ramon. You were going to be the meal. Did you not get that? With the fangs and the - the - the looks and the talk about how you’d be sweet.”

“I got it,” Cisco snaps. “I just - I mean, it didn’t seem like they meant have me for a meal in a murder way. More like in a sexy way.”

Harry scrubs his hands over his face. “It was in a vampire way,” he grits. “There’s nothing sexy about vampires.”

“Well I disagree. There are lots of things sexy about vampires.”

Harry makes an inarticulate noise. He raises his hand and clenches his fingers together. “You - you - God. You’re so lucky I was there. You can’t be trusted to make decisions. From now on, any time you go to another Earth, I’m coming with you. No arguing.”

“I’m not arguing,” Cisco says softly. Shame is starting to creep over his skin, cooling the fang pricks of want and excitement. He rubs the back of his neck.

“Good,” Harry says. He’s breathing heavily, chest moving up and down wildly. Cisco thinks of how their vampire selves touched each other, soft and calming, and wants to put his palm on Harry’s chest with the same tenderness. He curls his fingers into his palms.

“I need a drink,” Cisco says. He pushes his hair behind his ears and sweeps it all to the side, a nervous gesture, leaving one side of his neck vulnerable to the air. When he looks at Harry again, Harry is staring at the exposed skin. Cisco realizes it’s the same side vampire Harry was sucking at vampire Cisco. He licks his lips. “You wanna join me?”

Harry considers him for a moment. “I don’t know if that’s what we need.”

“Come on. It’s exactly what we need.”

Harry adjusts his own bag. He looks like he’s going to say. Instead, he says, “You buying?”

“Absolutely,” Cisco grins.

Harry, for all of his earlier exasperation, grins back. He reaches out to grasp Cisco’s shoulder and squeezes. He does that a lot, Cisco realizes. Touches his shoulder. Touches him. “Okay. But just one. We have a lot more Earth hopping to do tomorrow.”

“Who knows. Maybe we’ll find what we need tomorrow. Or a werewolf world.”

Harry rolls his eyes. When Cisco opens a breach to their favorite bar, the one where Harry doesn’t have to wear a hat and no one asks questions, he offers Harry his hand. Harry takes it.


	7. pining harry no kiss new years kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for heckyeahharrisco's new years kiss anthology. pining harry. set s4.

Harry finds Cisco in Lothario’s lounge. Cisco is sitting on a plush velvet couch, dark and rich under the low room light, and he’s cradled in the lazy grins and hands of some of Lothario’s guests. There is an unfocused flit of discomfort on his face. Color on his cheeks. His skin would be warm underneath Harry’s hands if Harry slid into the slick press of attention Cisco sits between.

Hesitation makes Harry’s mouth numb. Dumb. Every ugly thing in him twists sharp and at once and he wants to yank Cisco from the fray hard enough to snap something. He doesn’t know what will break if he pulls too hard at this - at whatever they’re doing tonight, whatever they’ve been doing these past few weeks.

His body is half curling away, the wound of being out of Cisco’s gravity already pulsing, when he hears Cisco say his name. He looks to find Cisco scrambling from outstretched fingers.

“Sorry,” Cisco is saying, rushed and softly slurred. His mouth is red from whiskey. Harry thinks it could burn him and wants to offer himself whole. “This was supposed to be a guy’s night.”

Cisco clasps his shoulder with a sure grasp. Harry sways into the sturdiness of it, clinging to the anchor of Cisco’s strength and smile.

“It still can be,” a woman whose name Lothario has told him a dozen times says. Harry never remembers her. He doesn’t remember any of the people they’ve met at Lothario’s salon parties. But Harry’s not here for them.

“Didn’t you have something to show me, Harry? In the study?”

Harry nods. He can’t make out the words Cisco says but whatever smooth escape he spins is enough. The women smile and wave, all of their movements slow, deliberate. Cisco tugs him away. Harry stares at their joined fingers as Cisco guides him and it could be to anywhere, really. At this point Harry doesn’t care. As long as it’s Cisco taking him. As long as he’s the one Cisco has chosen to take.

When they slip into an empty room, Cisco closes the door and leans against it. His eyes are closed and his lips are full and his smile is hitched to the side. Harry drinks him in, glutting himself on the way the light hits the smooth arches of Cisco’s features. Moonlight settles gentle on the bow of Cisco’s top lip and Harry’s tongue swells, dry and too stupid for his mouth. He gulps his wine. It’s bitter and dark. Cisco wouldn’t taste anything like it.  

“You weren’t supposed to let the sirens get me,” Cisco whispers, still smiling, as if they’re sharing a secret.

A thrill licks from Harry’s belly to his heart. In the dark he’s Cisco’s conspirator, confidante, friend. The one Cisco speaks softly to. No Caitlin, no Iris, no other hero or mentor or friend. Harry’s the only one he’s let poke at his bruises since Cindy breached away one day and never breached back.

It’s sick. It’s not like Harry doesn’t know. The pride that pulses bright in his chest when it’s him Cisco asks to stay up all night in the Cortex with, when it’s him Cisco hops from bar to bar with. He sees the purple livid under Cisco’s creasing eyes. The headaches that scratch Cisco’s skull from breaching and drinking one too many. Cisco is breaking beautiful and brutal under his latest heart breaks.

Cisco’s spiraling down but it’s Harry that he’s dragging with him. No one else. That counts for something.

“I was getting wine,” Harry whispers back. He sways into Cisco’s space, bottle warm in his fingers. In another timeline he tilts the mouth of it against Cisco’s lips and watches Cisco’s throat flutter. In this one he takes a swig.

Cisco just laughs and shakes his head, curls shifting. Harry’s brushed his fingers against them a few times - falling asleep in the same thin cot after too many sleepless nights has led to inevitable touch. Always gentle and passing and fleeting. Always painful and never enough. Harry walks the edge of a knife for those moments.

“I thought you let one of Lothario’s ‘research assistants’ snatch you up.” Cisco uses air quotes. “For a New Year’s kiss.”

Harry’s stomach rolls under another sour gulp. “I don’t think they have that tradition here.”

Cisco shrugs. “They didn’t have it on Earth 19. Cindy thought it was dumb when I explained it to her but…” He trails off, gaze rolling to an open window. The breeze fluttering in is warm. Smells sweet. Harry’s skin buzzes underneath it. “She said it was cute.”

Harry doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything. Words of comfort aren’t why Cisco has turned to Harry as his partner in crime these past weeks.

“I actually thought I’d have someone to smooch at midnight this year.”

A dark little mouth opens over Harry’s own. He bites his lip to shut it up.

The room wobbles when Cisco pushes from the door and reaches out, curling his hand towards Harry. It occurs to Harry only after all of his blood and desperation have rushed to his fingertips that Cisco is reaching for the bottle.

Harry hands it over wordlessly. He watches Cisco seal his lips over the glass where Harry’s lips just were. He looks away.

“God that’s awful. I can’t believe you like that stuff.” Cisco takes another drink, nose scrunched in a way that Harry has stopped pretending he doesn’t find adorable, and wipes at his wet mouth. “Champagne is so much better. You didn’t swipe any of that?”

“This Earth’s champagne isn’t good for you,” Harry says, taking the bottle. Last time Cisco drank three glasses and ended up pressed against Harry’s side, slurring his abandonment issues over Harry’s eager skin, telling Harry how happy he was that after everything, after everyone, Harry hadn’t left him.

Cisco pouts. “Come on, Harry. I know what kind of punch it packs now. Surely Lothario has a bottle he won’t miss?”

The ugly thing in Harry, the thing that almost sold out two worlds to save his daughter, that killed a man for her and enjoyed it, grows restless under Cisco’s soft voice. Cisco used to calm it. It’s gotten some teeth back in the face of Cisco’s own apparent self destruct sequence.

If Harry was as good of a friend to Cisco as Cisco was to him, Harry would help him. Offer warmth. Encouragement. He’d want Cisco to be as happy as Cisco could be, not just happy with him.  

“There was a fountain in Lothario’s salon,” Harry says.

Blue tears reality open. It always takes Harry’s breath away, just a little. Cisco could rip the world apart if he wanted to. Could rip Harry apart. Harry wouldn’t even fight it.

Cisco breaches back with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. His smile is blurry and bright.

Harry finishes off his wine while Cisco pours. The sound of it, the fizz of bubbles, the grin Cisco flashes when he passes Harry a glass, swirls with the alcohol and Harry isn’t sure what he’s drunk on. Cisco clinks their glasses together.

“Sorry I got emo earlier,” Cisco says. He takes a slow sip of his drink. “I just - you know, it doesn’t matter. I’m partying with my boy in a mansion on another planet. This is still way cooler than any other New Year’s I’ve ever had.”

That’s depressing. Harry’s chest still flutters, light. It pulls him forward and he’s moving, closer to the halo of Cisco’s smile, and Cisco just watches him, open and easy and trusting.

“Let’s go outside,” Harry breathes, pretending his feet have purpose. Cisco follows him, champagne bottle in hand.

They end up on the balcony, elbows touching, slumped over surprisingly tasteful railing, watching the ocean dark lap at the beach. Cisco rests his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” Cisco says. “For hanging with me tonight. Making sure I didn’t bring my New Year in totally lame.”

Harry laughs and it scratches his throat. He doesn’t lean into Cisco, doesn’t inhale Cisco’s hair or softness. Instead he looks at his watch.

“Two minutes,” Harry tells him, focusing on the crash of waves and not Cisco’s gentle breathing. “You sure this is how you want to bring your new year in?”

Cisco lifts his head only to knock it against Harry. “Duh. What else would I wanna be doing?”

It’s a lie. Even if Harry wasn’t a genius, he’d know it was a lie. He smiles anyway.

“What about you? Anywhere else you’d rather be?”

Cisco leans back. Harry mirrors his movement, head tilting to rest against Cisco, and Cisco lets him.

“No,” Harry says. “Nowhere else in the world.”


	8. sleepy cuddly no kiss new years kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the morning after harry and cisco don't kiss on new years eve, they wake up snuggling. set s4. rated g.

Cisco wakes up somewhere between cool and warm and soft. He keeps his eyes closed and stretches, sinking into all the gentle good. It stops as soon as he leans into it.

He frowns.

A noise of mild distress leaves him as he wallows in his sheets, turning his head away from the light curling into his bedroom, searching out the source of fingertips petting comfort against his skin. He can only open one eye fully, the other glued shut with sleep, but it’s enough to make out the shape of Harry, lying fawn still and soft across from him. Harry’s hand is stretched frozen above the pillow.

“Morning,” Harry says. His voice is pleasantly rough with sleep and Cisco aches under the scratch. He wants to curl into it, under it, burrow deep into the warmth radiating from Harry’s mouth.

“Morning,” Cisco echoes. He finally blinks both eyes. His focus flits lazy from Harry’s cheeks to his bird’s nest hair to his hand again. Cisco considers Harry’s fingers, sinking into the pillow, clutching it like he’s trying to stop the devil in them. “Were you playing with my hair?”

Harry scoffs, obviously caught. “Was I - I wouldn’t. No. Why would I do that? I wouldn’t do that. Your hair is ridiculous.”

The night before unfurls and Cisco watches it from below the surface, half caught in Harry’s sputtering and half caught in memory. Working on Barry’s suit, Cisco needs to have it ready when Barry is out of jail, Harry and Caitlin and Ralph pulling him from the Cortex to some bar, midnight striking and kissing Caitlin’s cool cheek and Harry’s warm one -

“I didn’t kiss Ralph, right?” Cisco presses his knuckles to his eyes until dull fireworks thump behind them.

“No,” Harry answers, quick and tack sharp.

When Cisco opens his eyes, Harry is staring at his mouth.

“That’s good,” Cisco says, watching the way Harry watches him. Harry looks gauzy, swaddled in his comforter, dressed in a black t-shirt that Cisco remembers was soft under his cheek. Cisco kept touching it, clinging to it, rubbing his whiskey warm mouth against it.

They fell into bed together, Cisco remembers. They laid across from each other and Cisco poked Harry’s dimples and laughed. Harry laughed too, Cisco remembers that, remembers holding Harry’s face in his hands and staring hard so he wouldn’t forget. He can’t remember kissing Harry anywhere else but the clean line of his cheekbone, the sleek curve of his jaw. He does remember wanting to.

“We fell asleep together,” Harry says, fingers twisting against the pillow. Nervous and slow with sleep. “We didn’t. We did, I mean. Sleep together. But we didn’t sleep together. If that’s what you were - ”

“I wasn’t. Obviously we didn’t.” Cisco gestures vaguely between them.

Harry’s jaw twitches. Cisco’s mouth tingles with the memory of alcohol and stubble burn.

“Obviously.” Something like anger settles Harry’s mouth into a flat, pink line.

Cisco rolls his eyes. He’s still tired, and his head is made of cotton balls that are made of headaches, and he’s not ready for a new year yet.

“Harry.” Cisco puts his hand over Harry’s, stilling the nerves, hopefully the anxiety that makes them twitch. “Chill.”

Before Harry can do the opposite of that, Cisco snuggles closer. He tucks himself into Harry’s heat, the solid strength of him. His nose dips into the crook between Harry’s shoulder and neck and he can feel Harry’s inhale flutter nervous in his own chest. Harry smells good. Cisco breathes him in and curls a hand around Harry’s ribs, frowning at the sharpness of them.

“More sleep.”

“Ramon.” Harry sounds a little helpless, a little breathless, and Cisco smiles into the little triumph. He leans in to press his mouth against Harry’s skin. Harry stops breathing altogether then, just for a moment, and Cisco buries his face further into Harry’s softness.

“And more playing with my hair.”

He feels Harry’s throat flutter, weak, confused, tired. Cisco tries to press reassurance into Harry’s pores: runs his fingers over Harry’s shirt, palm over Harry’s wild heart, and kisses Harry’s jaw again. Harry finally exhales.

“More sleep,” Cisco insists again. “Then we can freak out, okay?”

A few trembling heart beats pass before Cisco feels blunt fingernails pass over his scalp. He gives an appreciative hmm and rests his cheek on Harry’s shoulder.

“Okay,” Harry says, quiet.

Harry falls asleep first, fingers stilted in Cisco’s hair.


End file.
